


Just Some Redneck Asshole: In-between Scenes

by GodsUngratefulArms



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Adie Blake, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, I hate tagging, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mostly because I'm bad at it, all those TWD peeps, oh there's a tag for that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28746972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodsUngratefulArms/pseuds/GodsUngratefulArms
Summary: Basically this is just a companion piece to my other JSRA stories. It will be a collection of scenes in between... the in between scenes, the scenes between the scenes, those scenes that are found... okay, you get it. Rating for language.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. Patience, Brother

**Chapter 1**

*Daryl's POV*

Something about watching people ain't sitting right with me. Feels weird. And fucking creepy. Still, that's what me and Merle have been doing since yesterday afternoon. Staying outta sight, just watching. Seeing what we see. If I had it my way, we'd be halfway to the coast by now, but fuck no. Merle wants to stick around a while. We saw them news stories about national shortages, watched people fighting, screaming at each other over dumb shit like toilet paper and fucking hand soap like hygiene's what's gonna save 'em. And that was when the sickness was just rumors, before dead people started walking around.

Merle saw them articles and whatever else and came to the conclusion we didn't have to stock up on nothin'. Why bother paying for shit when we could just take it from somebody else? I guess it makes sense. We figured the smart ones would be fleeing the city, head for high ground or haul ass into the sticks where there's less people. We want the smart ones, they'll have the most shit, and not stupid shit, neither. They'll have weapons, fuel, camping supplies. Useful shit. So we parked ourselves at one of the higher campsites near the quarry and we waited for the smart ones to show up.

They ain't a big group, only got 18 we've seen yet, and they got mostly women and children as far as we can tell. The leader seems to know what he's doing, though. Merle's just been calling him  _ 'the pig' _ 'cause the dude's got cop written all over him. He's out here now, him, the black guy, and the girl with the giant mop of red curls on her head. The four of 'em broke away from the main camp first thing this morning and Merle sent my ass to track 'em, see what the hell they're up to. Probably just getting water like yesterday.

That redhead chick's loud, obnoxious bullshit's what drew me and Merle to 'em. We weren't even looking for people, we were just hunting, and there they were. She was cussing up a storm, bitching about some asshole named Ed, talking some big game about how she's gonna take him out if he don't quit hitting his wife. Girl don't look like she could win a fight against a toddler, much less a grown man. She ain't shit. She's about to have a much bigger problem than a wife beater, too.

If Merle still likes the way it looks tonight, we're gonna move in on 'em.

*Adrienne's POV*

"We're probably good on food for now," I muse, glaring into the tiny fire.

I know we've been over it a million times and keeping the fires low is the smart thing to do, but it gets cold up here at night and embers aren't really cutting it.

"We need toilet paper," Amy announces. "And  _ soap. _ "

"Okay," I sigh, eyeing the small group of people huddled around the almost useless fire. "Okay, one of you is usin' way too much toilet paper. We can't be runnin' out already."

"What are you gonna do,  _ ration _ the toilet paper?" Andrea demands, rolling her eyes.

"If you all can't be responsible with it, yeah," I chuckle. "I'll separate that shit into six-square strips."

"Bet you can't say that five times fast," T-Dog chuckles.

"Six-square strips, six-square strips, six-square strips, six-square strips, six-square strips!" Glenn and I chant in unison.

"Will you shut the hell up?" Ed's muffled, disembodied voice barks from inside the Peletier tent. "Some of us are tryin' to sleep."

"Some of us're tryin' to sleep," I mutter sarcastically, voice dropping low. "Alright, so we need toilet paper and soap. What else?"

"First aid kit's lookin' a little low," T-Dog points out. "That's gonna be a problem if-"

"Heads up," Shane calls from his perch atop the Winnebago. "Got somethin' comin' our way."

I rise to my feet, pulling my gun from my waistband, listening intently to the rumbling of a couple engines in the distance. We haven't had anybody new show up since the Morales family stumbled across our camp last week. They worked out fine, but that doesn't mean everybody we meet is gonna be sunshine and daisies. I squint into the darkness when the rumbling gets louder, like whoever it is, they're right on top of us, but there's nothing, no sign of-

"Jesus," I hiss, shielding my eyes from the sudden glare of somebody's high beams.

A truck just pulled into our camp, those blazing headlights flickering off as quickly as they'd come on. Son of a bitch. The asshole driving the truck did that shit on purpose, I'd bet on it. Momentarily blinding us to gain some kind of advantage. It worked. I almost don't see the man on the bike pulling up alongside the truck. Almost. Ignoring the blue-green spots now impeding my field of vision, I stalk towards the newcomers, weapon square on Bike Boy's head.

"That's close enough," I announce, voice magnified by the silence those engines left in their wake. "Who are you?"

"Easy does it, Ginger," Bike Boy chuckles, hands raised, eyes glittering in the moonlight. "Ain't nobody gotta get shot here."

"Who are you?" I repeat, glaring, aim steady even as Shane joins me on the ground, his own weapon loose in his hand.

"Merle Dixon," Bike Boy grins, nodding at the man now exiting the truck. "That's my baby brother, Daryl."

Baby Brother Daryl's got a crossbow aimed at my head.

"Shane Walsh," Shane announces, eyes flickering between the brothers. "You wanna lower your weapon 'fore somebody winds up hurt?"

"You first," Daryl barks, eyes never leaving mine.

"You're kiddin', right?" I scoff. "I look that  _ stupid _ to you?"

"Adie," Shane warns, touching my elbow.

I just stare at him, floored.

"Hey," he murmurs soothingly. "Let's just see what these guys are about, alright? No sense makin' trouble if we don't have to, alright? Alright?"

"Fine," I nod curtly, lowering my gun.

*Daryl's POV*

"So," T-Dog says pleasantly. "Where're you folks headed?"

After the standoff with the ginger chick, Shane sat us all down for some kind of introductory powwow around the fire. Her name's Adrienne but everybody calls her Adie and she don't trust us. She's sitting cross-legged in a camp chair, her gun resting in her lap, sharp eyes never leaving me and Merle. Most everybody's gone back to bed, just Shane, Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, Glenn, and Adrienne left. The wife beater is keeping watch and Adrienne's right about that douchebag. He's a dick. I gotta hand it to Merle. It's been a full 45 minutes and he ain't said nothin' racist yet.

"We was just, uh, just looking for high ground," Merle announces. "Comin' outta Atlanta. Spotted y'all from them switchbacks-"

"Bullshit."

Adrienne's glaring at my brother, the look on her face so indignant it's almost funny.

"Excuse me?" Merle laughs, gazing at the redhead indulgently.

"Bullshit you saw us from the switchbacks," she scoffs. "You can't see this site from the road at night 'cause of the treeline, that's why we picked it."

"I didn't say we spotted you at night," Merle points out.

"So you've been  _ watching _ us?" Glenn questions, horrified.

"Wanted to know what we were dealin' with 'fore y'all saw us," Merle says smoothly. "C'mon, y'all never heard of stranger danger?"

"So you thought rollin' up on an armed camp in the middle of the night isn't dangerous?" Adrienne demands.

Before Merle can spin some bullshit answer, there's a rustling in the trees just east of the pit. Adrienne and Shane are on their feet immediately, tensed and listening, guns trained on the invisible threat. Ain't nothin', though. Just a raccoon, probably looking for some table scraps.

"It's nothin'," Shane decides, he and Adrienne settling back into their seats.

"Jumpy bunch, ain't you?" Merle observes quietly. "Reminds me of when Daryl here swore on God he seen a werewolf in the woods, came home pissin' his pants."

He cackles, smacking me in the gut. For fuck's sake, when's he gonna let that shit go?

"Wasn't a werewolf," I mutter, glaring at the fire. "You wasn't there, you don't know."

"That's right," he concedes. "What was it again, Darylina?"

"It was a chupacabra," I snap.

"Yeah, right," Glenn laughs. "And Nessie's in the quarry, right Adie?"

"Fuck off, Glenn," Adrienne hisses, flipping him the bird.

"C'mon," Shane chuckles. "You don't really believe in that crap."

"Look, I never said there's a monster in the quarry," Adrienne insists. "But there's plenty of evidence to support the existence of the Loch Ness monster, alright?"

"The Loch Ness monster is a tourist trap," Glenn announces. "Just a story made up by the locals to-"

The argument goes on and on until Andrea points out Glenn and Adrienne should both be getting some sleep. They're the runners and I guess they're leaving first thing in the morning, heading into the city. They reluctantly agreed and everyone went their separate ways. Shane bid us good night, let us know we're welcome to stay if we'd like, they could use the muscle. Merle thanked him kindly, promised we'd earn our keep. These people ain't got a clue.

"How you wanna do this, then?" I question, taking a seat in the bed of the truck.

"Patience, brother," Merle murmurs, settling in next to me. "We ain't doin' nothin' tonight, not if we plan on gettin' outta here without that pretty little ginger puttin' bullets in our backs."

"She ain't shit," I shrug, retrieving a cigarette from my pocket and lighting up. "Some rich bitch snob playin' cops with her boyfriend's gun, what's she gonna do?"

"Listen to you, baby brother," he chuckles. "Rich bitch snob. Ain't nobody rich now."

I guess he's right. Still, you grow up like Merle and me did, you can fucking  _ smell  _ privilege all over some people.

"We're gonna stick around a while, man," Merle decides. "Get 'em to trust us, help 'em pull together more supplies. More shit they got for us, the better, huh?"

Whatever.


	2. You Were Already a Heathen

**Chapter 2**

*Adrienne's POV*

"For fuck's sake," I sigh, glaring at Glenn and Amy where they're standing beside the RV, chatting about who the fuck cares what.

I've been ready to leave for going on half an hour now and I thought he was, too, but he's having some trouble disentangling from Amy. She's got a thing for him. I guess I can see why, he's the only guy around close to her age. He's cute in a boyish sort of way, I guess. He's smart and funny and too goddamn nice for his own good, too nice to tell her he's not interested.

"You jealous, sweet pea?" Merle chuckles, leaning up against T-Dog's church van next to me.

Daryl's with him and I'm trying not to notice how ripped he is, but it's damn difficult now it's light out and he's traded his jacket for a sleeveless flannel. I don't know what I think of these two, yet. Daryl doesn't seem to talk a whole lot and Merle talks too much. In my experience, people who talk so much usually spew bullshit at a higher rate, perhaps due to sheer volume, but maybe Merle's just trying to compensate for Daryl's silence.

"You can call me  _ Adrienne _ ," I simper, eyeing the elder Dixon as he lights up a cigarette for himself before passing his pack of smokes to his brother. "Or nothin' at all. You've been here  _ one _ night, we're not friends."

"Whatever you say, sugar."

I just scoff, glaring at him. He smirks, taking a drag. Douchebag.

"Glenn!" I holler, shoving off the van and stalking down the dirt path from our camp. "Let's  _ go. _ "

Glenn mutters some apologetic goodbye to Amy, falling into step behind me, and I can feel eyes on my back as we stomp away. I glance over my shoulder just in time to catch Daryl Dixon's steely blue gaze flicker away.

-

"Hey," Glenn huffs as we navigate a particularly steep stretch of trail. "What do you think of the new guys?"

"I think the older one," I mutter. "Is a dick."

"They seem okay to me," he shrugs.

"Everyone seems okay to you, Glum," I point out.

"That's not true," he protests.

"Uh-huh," I chuckle. "You seem to think I'm alright."

"Yeah?" He eyes me, not quite catching my drift.

"You can't be trusted," I tell him solemnly. "I'm questionable at best."

He just rolls his eyes, knocking his shoulder against mine, and we fall into companionable silence for the rest of the trek down the mountain. I hate coming down here. Seeing the city. But it can't just be Glenn, that's not fair. And he's only got the one pair of hands. Two of us down here, that's twice the shit we can haul back to camp. Shane's offered to let us take his Jeep a couple times, and it would be nice to have the cargo space, bring back more than a few days supplies, but we need to conserve fuel whenever possible. Glenn and I don't mind going on foot.

"What about the younger one?" He questions.

"Hm?"

"The younger one. You said you think the older one is a dick."

The blistering Atlanta heat becomes downright unbearable, an inexplicable blush scorching my cheeks.

"They're  _ both _ dicks," I grumble.

The first few runs we went out on, we chattered the whole way down the damn mountain. We talked strategy, shopping lists, locations, backup locations. We've got it down now, though, so the rest of our journey into the city is quiet. We've reached our destination within a couple hours, sweaty and reeking to high heaven. Centennial Park Urgent Care Center. They should have everything we need. Soap, meds, toilet paper. The double doors are boarded over, but the back windows are clear. Glenn pries the window open, glaring at me expectantly. I glare right back.

"You first," I mouth.

He rolls his eyes, caving and climbing inside. He's the brains of this operation, but I am most definitely the brawn. It's not that I'm not smart or that he isn't tough, it's just that I'm tougher than I am smart and he's the other way around. Besides that, I'm older. That makes me the boss. I climb in after him, sliding the window shut behind me. We lucked out, this window led us directly into a patient exam room. An untouched and  _ empty _ patient exam room. Still, there could be geeks elsewhere in the building, so we wait, standing stock still, listening.

"Cool," Glenn breathes after a moment, grinning in relief.

The two of us waste no time, unzipping our duffels and ransacking the place. I should probably feel guilty. Technically, we're looting. Stealing. Somehow, though, I don't think it matters anymore. I've done worse shit, anyway. We've cleared the place out in no time, venturing beyond the exam room and into the staff bathrooms to retrieve toilet paper and Amy's soap. It so happens there's a feminine hygiene dispenser mounted to the wall and, after a bit of finagling, Glenn and I manage to pry it open and sweep the contents into our bags.

"My boyf-" I clear my throat, watching Glenn pluck a rogue tampon from the metal lip of the dispenser. "Uh, my roommate, he'd get so grossed out by this kinda shit."

"Tampons?" He questions, nose wrinkling in confusion.

"Yeah," I nod. "Periods in general, really."

"I have," he starts, then corrects himself. "Had… sisters."

He shakes his head like he can shake away the pain, but I can see it. It's the same look he gets sometimes when Amy and Andrea are around. He thinks his family is dead, that he's all alone in the world. Maybe that's why, despite the age difference and having almost nothing in common, he and I bonded so quickly. I don't have anyone either, except him and our little camp.

"We should go," he mutters, sniffing, pushing past me and into the hallway.

I trail after him, retracing our steps back to the exam room where we'd started. He doesn't bother attempting to get me out the window first, sliding the window open and dropping into the alley outside without a fuss.

"Adie, wait!"

The warning comes a fraction of a second too late. I've already dropped down beside him when I realize we're not alone. There's a man out here, armed, staring down the barrel of the gun pointed square at Glenn's face.

"Easy," the man soothes, eyes flickering from my face to Glenn's and back. "Ain't nobody gotta get hurt, alright? Just gimme the bags, nice 'n slow, 'n we all walk away, alright?"

"Who the hell  _ are _ you?" I demand, grabbing hold of the strap on Glenn's duffel before he can hand it over.

The man doesn't bother with a response. Instinctively, I lurch forward just as his bullet slides into the chamber, grabbing hold of both his hands and shoving them upward, forcing his shot to the sky. I wrap one hand around the barrel, kneeing the man hard in the gut, and wrest the gun from his grip. I'm not about to fire another shot, not here, not now, so I drop the weapon, kick it aside, and do the only thing I can think to do. I pull the hatchet from my belt and swing, burying the sharp blade into the side of his neck. Blood, hot and sticky, spurts from the wound as he drops to his knees, crumpling like a broken marionette.

"Oh, my god," Glenn breathes, horrified. "Oh, my god, Adie, you, you just, you-"

"Yeah, I know," I hiss frantically, snatching up the duffel I'd dropped and throwing it over my shoulder. "We gotta go!"

"You, you just, you," he stutters. "You just killed that guy!"

"He was gonna kill you!" I spit, tucking the dead man's gun into my waistband. "Shot's gonna bring the geeks down on us,  _ come on! _ "

*Daryl's POV*

I figured Glenn and Adrienne would've been long back before me and Merle came back from our hunt. They weren't, though. We got us a deer, skinned and gutted the sumbitch, cooked it up for the camp. All part of Merle's plan. Make 'em like us, show 'em how useful we are, give 'em reasons to keep us close. It's working, I guess. Merle's a charmer when he wants to be. It's after sundown by the time Glenn and Adrienne roll up to camp. Lori takes one look at the redhead and ushers Carl into their tent.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dale demands, eyeing the woman up and down.

She's covered in blood spatter, but it's dry. It ain't her blood and Glenn looks scared out of his goddamn wits, but he ain't bleeding neither.

"Adie?" Dale prompts when neither of 'em answer.

"I'm gonna go down to the water," she says flatly, dropping her duffel at Amy's feet. "Toilet paper's in this one."

She stalks off down the path that leads to the quarry without another word, leaving silence in her wake.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Adie."

T-Dog. Should've known he'd follow me down here. I ignore him, concentrating on scrubbing the blood from my skin. Wish I'd thought to grab a clean shirt.

"Glenn told us what happened," he says quietly. "You, uh… you alright?"

"I'm fine."

He's quiet for a few moments, but I can feel his eyes on my back and I know he doesn't believe me. It's the truth, though. I'm fine. I shouldn't be. That's the problem. I shouldn't be okay with this. Stealing, sure, but murder?

"Why the hell are you down here?" I blurt, glancing over my shoulder at my silent companion.

"Well, excuse me," he rolls his eyes, crouching down beside where I'm kneeling on the rocks. "For wantin' to make sure my friend isn't gonna drown herself."

"T," I murmur, glaring at the water, my moonlit reflection glaring right back at me. "I killed somebody."

"Yeah."

"You're not…" I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. "You're not afraid of me?"

" _ Should _ I be?"

"I guess I just," I shake my head, turning to face him. "I just thought, given the big man's stance on murder, I thought…"

I trail off, wrapping my arms protectively around myself, dropping my gaze to the ground.

"World's changin'," T-Dog murmurs. "Can't blame yourself for changin' with it."

He sighs, rising and offering a hand. I take it and he pulls me to my feet, the two of us turning away from the water and heading back towards camp.

"Besides," he chuckles softly. "You were already a heathen."

"Shut up," I snort, elbowing him.

*Daryl's POV*

Glenn disappeared into the RV after filling us in on what happened, Dale and the blonde sisters on his heels. Hell, everybody went to bed. That guy, Morales, is keeping watch up top, and it's just Shane and me at the pit when T-Dog returns, Adrienne in tow. Only reason I'm hanging around out here is 'cause I know Merle's probably got his bedtime ritual going full swing. He likes to… take care of business before he sleeps, says it's a  _ natural sedative, _ whatever the hell that means. Anyway, maybe I'm also a little curious about the redhead. She drops into the camp chair next to Shane, accepting the plate he'd set aside for her, digging in immediately. 

She don't seem like a killer.

"Adrienne," Shane says eventually, regarding her with concern. "Glenn told us what happened in the city."

"I heard," she mutters, shoveling another forkful of venison into her mouth, gazing at the embers still smoldering in the pit.

"You know, the first time you take a life…" Shane trails off, Adrienne's eyes snapping to his. "Man… you don't ever forget it. You just… you have to carry-"

"I did what I had to do today, Shane," she interrupts.

"That is right," he agrees. "And you have to carry that. You know, it's… it's the easiest thing in the world to forget that part, start, start  _ blamin' _ yourself, feelin' all kinds of guilty. But-"

"I don't."

This time her interruption throws him. She says it so matter-of-factly, too. Covered in a dead man's blood, the red-orange light of the embers setting her aglow.

"Yeah, you say that now," Shane mutters. "Just wait."

"I did what I had to do today," Adrienne repeats, glaring. "And Glenn's alive. What, you want me to, you want me to feel  _ bad _ for that?"

"No, Adie, I'm just sayin'-"

"I killed a guy," she announces, nodding to herself. "And  _ Glenn's alive.  _ I'm not gonna apologize for it and I don't feel guilty, either, so quit tryin' to tell me about what I've gotta  _ carry.  _ There's nothin' here for you to make better."

She gets to her feet, dropping her empty plate unceremoniously into the seat she's just vacated, and stomps off towards the tents. T-Dog just shrugs, trailing after her. Shane's eyes follow the two of them until they've ducked into their tent, then his gaze meets mine.

"Women," he huffs, chuckling bitterly to himself.

Whatever. Gonna have to keep my eye on that one, though. She seems like a real piece of work.


End file.
